


You've Got A Friend In Me

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Lavellan/Solas, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 12:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: Dorian is ready to retire for the night when he comes upon a very upset Aria Lavellan. Being one of her best friends, he resolves to find out what's wrong. (After the game, before Trespasser)





	You've Got A Friend In Me

Dorian stretched as he got up from his chair, noting the time. It was late enough he was alone in Skyhold’s library, everyone else already having gone to bed. All was quiet and still – a rare occurrence for the often-busy castle, but since the defeat of Corypheus, things hadn’t been quite as urgent as they used to be. He was rather fond of the peace, if he was honest – it felt nice to relax a little bit.

Putting his book away on the shelf beside his chair, he decided it would be wise to go to bed himself. More visitors would surely be arriving the next day, and though they had much more interest in the Inquisitor than a dread Tevinter mage, it still made for a busy day. Might as well be well-rested – the idea of being seen looking _tired_ was unthinkable.

He managed to make it halfway across the rotunda that had until so recently been Solas’ before he noticed he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. A sob caught his attention, piquing his curiosity as he looked around – as far as he’d been able to tell, no one else had set foot in this room since the elf’s departure.

Upon catching sight of the Inquisitor herself on the wooden platform off to the side, Dorian froze in shock. She was the very last thing he’d ever expected to see here…and he was absolutely certain he’d _never_ seen her crying like this before.

“Inquisitor?” he questioned softly, gazing up at her in the dim light. She was mostly in shadow, but she wasn’t hard to recognize.

She gasped, startled, and turned to face him. Her face in the candlelight now, he could see it seemed to be covered in smeared, purple paint.

“Dorian,” she said thickly, clearly trying to control her voice but failing spectacularly. “What are you doing here?”

“That was my question,” Dorian offered lightly, taking a step toward the scaffolding. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” the Inquisitor replied, choking out the word. “Go – go on.”

“Refusing _my_ company?” Dorian asked, his teasing tone concealing his concern. “Now I _know_ something’s wrong.” 

He walked over to the platform, considering whether he ought to climb up and join her. He heard her let out another sob, and he might have mistaken it for a laugh if it hadn’t been followed by a low, keening sound full of pain. That decided it, and he made his way up the ladder.

“R-really,” Lavellan sniffled out, having trouble even talking. “I’m – fine.”

“Then I’ll join you in being fine,” Dorian said simply, reaching the top of the ladder and sitting beside her. She may not want to talk about what was wrong, but he wasn’t stupid; something had upset her beyond measure. She was one of his best friends, and he certainly wasn’t about to leave her to deal with it by herself.

Rather than push it and ask him to leave again, she seemed content to let him sit there. He didn’t say anything, just let her cry, just being there. Eventually she spoke, her voice smaller than he’d ever heard.

“It didn’t work,” she murmured. 

“What didn’t?”

She gestured to the paints open in front of her.

“I tried to put the vallaslin back,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking again. “I…I know it’s not the same or anything. I just…couldn’t…” she dissolved into incoherent tears again.

Dorian reached over and put an arm around her, pulling her close in a one-armed hug. 

“What happened to them?” Dorian asked gently. He’d seen her bare face; everyone had seen it, but no one had known what happened. It had seemed to coincide with a chill between her and Solas, however. He hadn’t asked – hadn’t wanted to dredge up bad feelings.

“Solas,” Aria choked out. “He…he told me. They were slave markings. H-he removed them for me,” she sobbed. “After he t-told me. And then…he…he…” Aria gulped, then continued, “he broke things off with me.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I thought…maybe…after this was over. I could m-make him…change his mind. But he left.” She sniffled again, taking another deep breath. “He removed _my_ markings…from _my_ people…and then he _left me_!” The last words came out in a desperate wail, and she broke into sobs again, leaning into Dorian’s shoulder.

Typically, he wouldn’t have been thrilled about someone crying on his clothing…particularly not someone with paint all over their face. But this…he’d never seen the Inquisitor like this before, and his heart hurt for her. He squeezed her tighter.

“Alright, then,” he murmured soothingly, rubbing his hand along her arm. “Just get it all out, now.”

His chest tightened in sympathy at the way she clutched at him, needing the lifeline he provided. She was hurting terribly…and he had no idea how to help. It wasn’t as though he had any idea where Solas had gone; even Leliana, with all her talent and networking, hadn’t found him. So he did what he could, little though it was, and let her cry it out.

“It just isn’t fair,” Aria murmured thickly after a while, turning her head far enough to speak. “He always seemed to know so much…I wanted to know, too. I wanted to learn, I wanted him to tell me everything. We try…I know the Dalish aren’t perfect,” she sniffled. “But we try. And I listened. And he just…left.”

Dorian let out a sympathetic sigh.

“I’m sorry, Aria,” he said. “He shouldn’t have hurt you like this. I wish I knew where he was.”

“Thanks,” Aria said, putting her arm around his back and squeezing him in gratitude. “Sorry about this,” she added.

“As you ought to be,” Dorian said, feeling it was safe to tease her again. “My glorious robes are covered in purple paint now.” He was pleased when she let out a watery laugh.

“I’ll fix them,” she promised. “And I’m sorry about that too. It was stupid; it’s not like they’re painted on to begin with.” She sighed. “But I’m…sorry you had to see me like this,” she admitted sheepishly, pulling away now and wiping her face. “I’ve been holding it together, I swear I have.”

“I know you have,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes a little. “That’s how you are, isn’t it? Never letting yourself feel anything if it gets in the way of work.” She snorted, and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “But you’re allowed to have feelings,” he added. “I believe a ridiculous little Dalish woman once told me that.”

Aria laughed, shoving him gently.

“You’re terrible, Dorian,” she said, sniffling again.

“I am perfect,” Dorian retorted, smirking. He was glad he’d gotten her to laugh, at least. He turned serious again for a moment, though. “Aria, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked gently, a hand on her knee. “You _can_ talk to me, I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Aria said, a small smile on her lips as she patted his hand. “Thank you, Dorian. I appreciate it.” She let out a long breath. “I…think I’m fine. I should probably just get to bed.”

“Might I suggest washing your face first?” Dorian teased, and she breathed out a laugh again.

“Good plan,” she agreed. She got to her feet, resolutely looking away from the paints spread before her, and climbed down the ladder, followed by Dorian. “If you bring those robes to my room tomorrow, I’ll make sure they’re taken care of,” she offered as they reached the door.

“I’m sure I can come up with some way to clean paint,” Dorian said with a laugh. He didn’t _really_ mind, after all…he cared about her more than a bit of paint that would easily come off his clothing. “Good night, Aria.”

“Night, Dorian,” Aria said with another small smile before walking away toward the door to her quarters.

Dorian watched her go, hoping he’d managed to help. She looked back when she reached the door, pausing to give him a wave as she walked through it, shoulders back and head tall. He almost laughed at himself.

She was the Inquisitor, after all. She would be fine. And he’d certainly be there to help whenever she was anything less.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love Dorian a lot, okay? His dialogue makes it clear that he's such good friends with the Inquisitor and I just really love it. Plus, Aria's really upset about Solas, and I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort. Hope you enjoyed it! I love kudos & comments :D


End file.
